


Of Music and Roads, Askew

by growingCataclysm



Category: No Straight Roads (Video Game)
Genre: AU idea, Circus and Carnival Themes, Death, Enby Neon J, Gen, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Murder, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Miracle Musical AU, Surreal imagery, Will add tags as I go, im posting from a 3ds please have mercy on me, more death and more murder, no beta we die like kul fyra, please let me add chapter notes, unsure how to tag that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:14:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29808939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/growingCataclysm/pseuds/growingCataclysm
Summary: Drabbles and descriptions for a No Straight Roads AU inspired by the works of Miracle Musical.The AU itself is still in development, and so, things may be tweaked as I see fit.
Relationships: Eve | Nadia & Mayday (No Straight Roads)
Kudos: 4





	1. Mayday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A curious girl without a name seeks danger in the light of day.
> 
> Main Inspirations: Isle Unto Thyself, Murders

A girl approaches a great white tent, appearing to her as being so big that it could tear open the sky if it wished. She was scared, as children often are when meddling in things much bigger than herself, yet onward she continued. The people of her town spoke of the circus in hushed whispers. 

"A circus only in name," said they, "for nobody walks into that tent expecting to be entertained." They spoke of the Ringleader even softer, a woman tall as the trees, yet thin as bone. Her face appeared as though she painted it, divided neatly into halves of deep mauve and shining white, those same colours decorating her tent.

"She has eyes of an unnatural green, eyes that could see into your very soul," they whispered to one another, "she must surely be a demon." Together in fear they spoke of the uncanny powers she commanded and haressed for her circus. With a glance, she could see through every lie. She would laugh with glee and expose everything you've kept hidden, forcing open your eyes. Such, the girl had heard.

She ducked into the tent with fear in her heart, leaving the canvas flap to fall. The circus grounds had been oddly quiet; she hadn't seen a soul since she left town. 

This tent was strangely empty too, devoid of the stage and seats the adults has described. She looked around the cavernous empty space, searching for signs of life. The girl turned her head to look behind her, and when she turned back around, she found the tent no longer empty. In the middle of the vast canvas was now another tent, dyed deep purple. She startled, mind at war between curiosity and fear. Should she?

A light turned on inside the smaller tent, and her decision was made. Had she not come too far? She felt deep within that no matter what she did, the Ringleader knew she was here. Keeping her shakes under control - Mother had always told her to act polite and presentable to adults - she stepped forward and lifted up the tent flap, stepping slowly inside.

"How rude," crooned a smooth, deep voice. "didn't your parents teach you to knock?" There were all sorts of oddities littering the floor: cushions, mirrors, crystal glass bottles filled with clear liquid, pencil sketches depicting all sorts of strange scenes, cuts of fabric, sewing tools, and many other tools of artistic expression, some of which the girl had never seen and could not fathom the use of. These things were glossed over by her brain in favour of the observation that the floor was made of smooth marble, rather than the soft dirt of the field. But even this was ignored in favour of the sight at the middle of the room.

Sitting in front of a luxurious vanity, twice her childish size and yet grotesquely thin, was a figure the girl could only assume was that of the Ringmaster. Her corn-yellow hair flowed straight down her back and to the floor, draped in a fashion reminiscent of a bride's veil. Her face, and indeed, her entire body, was divided into the same neat halves described, yet her odd colouring lacked the powdery crinkling that would indicate makeup having been implied. The more the girl stared at the Ringmaster's imposing figure, the more clear it seemed to her that she was so very, terrifyingly real.

So caught was the girl in her fear and observation that she only dimly noticed that the object of those feelings had turned to face her. Their eyes met, and she could feel herself drowning within the endless teal. It was not the sort of drowning one feels in the eyes of a lover, no, it was the helpless panic that comes to one stranded at sea. Those eyes were endless and swallowed her whole as a wicked-seeming smile danced across her bicoloured face.

"What a frightfully rude one you are," the Ringleader's voice rang like a bell as she stood to her full height. "I suppose I'll take over the introductions, then. I am the Ringleader of the Mirror Dream Travelling Circus, but you, my child, may call me..."

"Eve."


	2. Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The nameless protagonist learns of the truth. Eve shows off, mostly. The Circus gains an initiate.
> 
> Main Inspirations: Black Rainbows, Murders, The Mind Electric

Eve looked down upon the little child trembling within her home with amusement. Curiosity drove the little one here, and nobody came here on accident. Her tiny little mouth opened, only to choke on the fear coming off her in waves. Eve stifled a laugh, lifting a hand to delicately close that poor little mouth. 

"Ah, nevermind your name. I would hope you'd know not to give such a valuable thing to a stranger." She closed her mouth to hum, noting how the little thing was shaking. How scared she was, yet she hadn't fled. Was she brave, or merely stupid? "Everyone comes to my chambers for a reason. What is yours?"

Eve allowed her hand to fall, and the child stammered out some blather of curiosity. What an ignorant thing she was! Except-

"If names are so valuable, why did you give me yours?" A spark of intelligence. Such an odd thing for one to have such smarts, yet so little common sense! Eve allowed herself to smile at this, nodding to the youngling.

"The name I gave you is a lie, child. Do you take me for a fool?" Eve didn't bother to hide her amusement as the child pondered this. Did she hide potential in that tiny frame? The girl nodded up at her, and Eve nodded back. "Now that I've answered your question, will you answer mine? Or will we sit here giggling at nothing for the next eternity?"

The girl frowned, those large eyes of hers narrowing into a squint. Eve allowed her smile to fall, tilting her head in a practiced show of challenge.

"I said I was curious!" came her little shout. Her voice quieted under Eve's narrowed eyes, yet she did not stop speaking. "People said you're a demon. That you can see into people's souls! Is that true?" The girl's voice soon rose once more, returning the challenge she'd issued. This was not the first time she'd been accused of such, so many times had she been asked that she tired of giving the answer.

"I am no demon, nosy little girl. I am mortal, just like you. Simply... different." A shark's smile took her face, yet the girl remained unfazed (and quite offended by her insult, judging by her little glare). Eve couldn't help but sigh inwardly at this reaction. So easily distracted, or so it seemed, as the child quickly fired back: "That doesn't explain anything!"

"I wouldn't simply give up the secret of my power to any nosy little girl that comes by." Eve sighed, picking up a mirror from the floor and idly watching her reflection in it. "I merely show others the truth. You cannot run and hide from the problems life throws at you. I serve to remind them of this fact. Nothing more." Eve was growing bored of the little spitfire, yet something compelled her to keep talking. The girl seems to consider her words for a moment, looking at the floor.

"Can I see?" Eve blinked. Her eyes returned to the girl's, both expressions a reflection of curiosity and wonder. She straightened up fully and placed the mirror atop the vanity, fixing her guest with a steely look.

"How curious you are. I'll warn you now, the preformance will not be pleasant. I deal with the things you cannot bear to admit, and I do not mince my words. Are you certain you want to preform with me?" Within, Eve hoped her little guest would agree. How would she react, being stripped bare of lies to the harsh spotlight of the truth? Would she break apart and cry as most did, burrowing deeper into her cozy mound of lies, or would that potential she saw have merit?

The little squib nodded, and the two exchanged a handshake, the air filling with curiosity, apprehension, excitement. Eve smiled zealously, snapping her fingers. The mauve tent collapsed around them, packing itself into some unknown spot under the floor. The wide, empty grand tent sprawled around them, pale sides catching the sunlight and filtering it evenly to the ground below. Eve dissolved into magenta smoke and the show began!

Her hands materialized behind the girl, covering her eyes as pink mist swirled around her feet and Eve's voice rang through the empty tent. "Such a stubborn one you are, child of spring. Such a strong will to so vehemently deny the truth." Her hands disappeared, leaving the little one staring wide-eyed at her reflection in a standing mirror. The only mirror in her poor household, the one her mother used to change.

Though the tent remained empty, the mirror reflected the inside of the poor little house the little girl called home. The air around her rang with shouts as the very sun itself seemed to dim. "Trouble at home, little girl? You did such an admirable job of ignoring it, don't try to burden yourself with lies any longer." An unsteady breath, shadowy figures slipping behind a door. "Your parents try to deny themselves as well, don't they? They pretend not to believe the things they scream at each other." Breathless laughter, an angry shout. "But you know, don't you?"

"Your little house of lies is so close to falling over, it has been since long before your time. Your mother, helpless and trapped. Your father, suspicious and betrayed. And one more..." A flash of bright blonde hair from behind the mother's door, in a house made of red and brown hair. "...one who wanted far simpler things, never a little child with his face. Your grandmother, bless her soul... Her hair was never blonde." Eve's laughter echoed through the tent as the little one grit her teeth, trying so very hard to stay strong.

A flash of silver silenced that laughter, truth weighing heavy in the air. "Your mother... she keeps a knife beneath her bed. So desperate has she become that she... she..."

Suddenly, the mirror shattered. The spell laced through the air broke with it, and the sun began to shine once more, revealing Eve. She held the little child behind her with one hand, the other far outstretched. Following it revealed the remnants of the mirror, thrown far across the room. For a moment, the only sound was that of two lungs heaving deep breaths. Eve was the first one to recover.

"...Do not return home tonight, little girl. There... There is nothing left to save." Her voice was heavy and solemn, without a trace of its earlier amusement. And the little girl, numbing shock having pierced deep within, could only nod. Eve's eyes met hers, so small, so scared... Eve found herself faced now with her own truth, hung heavy above her:

She could not leave this child behind.

"...If you wish, you may stay with us. We are an odd sort, but we are honest and fair. We will not allow harm to come to you, and I'm sure we can find use for such a nosy girl. Our preformance could use a new set of eyes." She offered a hand, lowering herself a bit to seem nonthreatening. The little girl, just as fragile as any one of her precious mirrors, looked up at her with eyes filled with grief and sorrow, and Eve knew she could deny her nothing. She took the hand offered with her own, so very small...

Eve scooped up the little one, carrying them gently in her arms. "Your true name is stilll your most valuable posession. Do not give it freely- we shall make you a new name." This little child of spring, merely nodding in her arms.... She would be named after the celebration that occurred on the day of her birth. She would be named for joy.

"We will call you Mayday, little one. Welcome to the Mirror Dream Travelling Circus."


	3. Neon J

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A man twice-dead and never-born contemplates the futility of life.
> 
> Main Inspirations: The Mind Electric, Dream Sweet in Sea Major
> 
> While I am a member of a system and nearsighted, I do not have chronic pain or hearing issues. If I make any mistakes, please don't hesitate to point them out.

Neon.

An strange name for a strange man.

Joe.

An average name for an average man.

Neon was who they used to be. A proud young man in his early 20s. Brown hair, green eyes, lighter brown skin. A friendly man with a good sense of humor, welcoming to all. He dee-jayed at a local club on weekends and flipped burgers at a nameless fast food place on weekdays. His money went to studying music, his one and only love. Even strapped for cash as he was, he maintained a vibrant optimism. Up-and-coming, on the move, a man with music in his soul, laughter in his voice, and love in his heart.

Joe was also who they used to be. A grizzled old veteran, his face marred from battle. He'd seen his fair share of battles, he'd led his fair share of battles. He'd loved, and he'd lost. He'd hated, and won. He loved his troops as one loves their own children, he remembered each of their names, weighed down by the memory of the dead. His heart belonged to his country - his subordinates were the only children he'd ever had.

NJ, as they'd taken to calling themself, was just tired. They held a cup of coffee in their hands, listening to the two voices in their head argue. NJ wasn't really sure who 'they' were, at this point. Two people awkwardly thrown into one body and halfway-meshed together, but not meshed enough for them to get some peace and quiet, apparently.

A car crash had taken Neon away. He trusted the streetlights too much, head bouncing to the rhythm. A drunk driver slammed forward with an angry screech, and then he was gone. (Neon screamed bloody murder every time they had to cross the street at night.)

Joe had been taken by a bullet that just so happened to hit his mark. His ship was determined not to sink, but so was the enemy, and they took their shot and fired and then Joe breathed no more. (Joe went silent whenever they were near a body of water. They ignored the way the body shook.)

Sip. The lack of tastebuds allowed them to drink their coffee black without cringing at the taste. (Joe thought adding things to coffee was pathetic. Neon needed the energy. It was one of many unsteady compromises.)

NJ wasn't quite sure why they were alive. Their first moment of conciousness was to the lovely sight of a blinding white light and the even lovelier sensation of pain. So, so much pain.

Then they woke up in an alleyway, shaking and hurting but ultimately, unfortunately, alive. Their body was awkward and prone to hurting, a bit too tall and yet too short for either of them to properly pilot most of the time, and also coloured an ugly, oversaturated green (Neon was the only one who liked that colour.). The tips of their fingers and toes faded into a more manageable emerald, but generally, they were a walking green-screen with brown eyes and scraggy white hair. Oh yeah, and a driver's liscence registered to 'Neo Man'. Just another reason why their existence was a nightmare.

Unfortunately for them, death had a bad habit of not sticking. They'd end up back in that damp, sticky alley every time. Pissed, with a new spot of pain wherever they'd been killed before (and a lecture from Joe), but alive. After a while of that, they got tired of waking up in that stupid alley and decided to figure out why they were alive instead (another compromise.).

It'd be helpful if they could remember more than that awful, searing light.

It'd be helpful if all of their senses weren't fucked to hell and back. Near-sighted, unable to taste or smell anything less strong than bleach, constantly in pain, and hearing set to a constant volume of "fuck you" (Joe was helpful enough to not comment on their language).

Whoever put their body together did a terrible job of it, and they wanted a refund.

As far as they could tell from what little legal information they had, they'd gotten their degree from a perfectly average high school after spending the first years of their life in the orphanage where they'd been found as a baby. They were 23, worked at a senior center (much to their combined chagrin), rented an apartment in the outskirts of downtown, and had no medical insurance to speak of. As far as they could tell, Neo himself got caught up in whatever weird bullshit that put all their spirits in one body together, and was now completely part of the weird almgamation that made up 'NJ'. Not a scrap of his memories remained.

Good grief.


	4. DJ Subatomic Supernova

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An entity considers ascension. Exposition is given. Everything eventually dies.
> 
> Main Influences: An Isle Unto Thyself, Dream Sweet in Sea Major

He had been human once.

Neptune had been mortal, nothing more, nothing less. He'd looked up into the sky and dreamed as so many did before him. He'd been a human, deeply afraid, just like everyone before him. Afraid of dying, and more than that, afraid of being forgotten.

Then She came. She came, and brought with Her the Secret. She taught humanity how to spin music into energy, energy that could be woven into powerful spells, all for the price of worship. On that day, Neptune's dreadfully tiny world was expanded tenfold.

He was smarter than the pathetic crawlers around him, the ones that begged and pleaded for even a glimpse of Her. Where others accepted blind faith in return for fleeting power, he studied the spells that She showed them. He learned Her secrets, the real ones, the ones She tried so hard to hide.

When the spells She'd given began to consume people from the inside out, stealing their very existence, he was one of the lucky few to survive. But anyone with sense can tell you that there is no such thing as luck. Only opportunities and those smart enough to take advantage of them.

When humanity began running out of Time, he was there to reap the rewards. Soon enough, Neptune was no more. He died and then ascended, he was reborn into what he is now: The Subatomic Supernova, Avatar of Humanity, Master of the Universe. And now, all that was left to do was for Space to consume Time.

But then, faintly, he registered a sound with ears he had long since outgrown. Inevitable, approaching. The slow, endless march of death. The ticking of the clock, counting down to the end.

In that moment, he understand. He was, and always would be, too late. After all, with enough time, even the universe fell to heat death.

For the first time since his death, Neptune knew fear.


End file.
